Snow fell thick over the mountains, blanketing blood and ash alike. The wolves buried their dead in silence, their howls low and mournful.
Aradia stood apart, her fire flickering weakly, her body still trembling from the bargain she had made to save Kael. She had poured too much of herself into him. Her fire still smoldered inside, but it was slower to answer now, dulled as though part of it had been taken.
Kael refused to leave her side. His massive frame loomed over her even in silence, his green eyes shadowed, his hands rough but gentle whenever they brushed hers. He had survived because of her, and he would never forget it.
But the pack remembered too.
They muttered in corners, their golden eyes sharp. She saved him. She cursed him. She gave herself to fire, and one day it will burn us all.
One wolf, an elder named Haldor, stood before Kael as the pack feasted on the meager spoils of their hunt.
"You tie us to her," Haldor growled, his voice deep with age. "Every battle, we bleed because of her. The shadow hunts her, not us. Cast her out. Save what remains of the pack."
The cavern silenced. Wolves lowered their heads but their ears twitched, listening.
Kael's wolf surged beneath his skin, his green eyes glowing with fury. "Speak again, and I will tear out your throat."
But Aradia caught Kael's wrist, her fire warm against his skin. "No," she whispered. Her voice shook, but she stepped forward, her fire burning brighter.
"If you believe I am your curse, then I will leave. But if you believe I am your fire—then stand with me."
Silence. The wolves wavered, torn between fear and loyalty.
And then, slowly, one howled. Another. And another.
The cavern shook with their voices. For the first time, they did not howl for Kael alone.
They howled for her.